


the feelings won't leave me alone

by undernightlight



Series: Gays in Space [32]
Category: Red Dwarf (UK TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Book: Infinity Welcomes Careful Drivers, Childhood Trauma, Feelings, Heavy Angst, Hurt Arnold Rimmer, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27319021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undernightlight/pseuds/undernightlight
Summary: When Rimmer emerges from the  game, he expected Lister to be right on his heels, just as promised, but Rimmer soon realises he's the only one to have held up their end of the bargain. Now it is a waiting game, waiting to find out of Lister was willing to die in a fantasy world, leaving a very real, albeit dead, Rimmer onRed Dwarf, or if he'll come back as promised. All Rimmer knew for sure was that he shouldn't be left alone with his mind.[knowledge of the bookInfinity Welcome Careful Driversisn't needed, but will help]
Relationships: Dave Lister/Arnold Rimmer
Series: Gays in Space [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/951465
Kudos: 28





	the feelings won't leave me alone

**Author's Note:**

> okay so I finished listening to the first book - beautifully read by Chris Barrie, I would recommend - and knew I just had to write this, but I haven't read/listened to the second one yet, so it doesn't align, obviously, but yeah, just heads up I guess?

Rimmer came to on the bunk room's floor feeling like he'd just been vomited out, all while having the worst hangover imaginable. He'd tried to catch himself on the table, his brain still foggy, but forgetting he was no longer a solidgram - forgetting that that wasn't even a thing - he'd phazed right threw it and smacked himself against the cold, metal floor. It didn’t hurt, but the rest of him made up for the pain. 

He staggered to his aching feet and attempted to take in as much of his surroundings as possible. He was in one of the officer's quarters, one that was vaguely familiar to him. The lockers were on the floor and behind where they should’ve been against the wall, was a dugout filled with headsets and game reels. The sight slowly brought the memories back to Rimmer; _Better Than Life_ , the highly addictive, often fatal, total immersion video game.

God, it really had all just been a game. Even after visiting Cat’s fantasy - a golden castle with a milk moat and scantily clad warrior women - he knew it wasn’t real, but still part of him wanted it to be. He wasn’t sure why really, as his fantasy life was falling apart: his beautiful wife had been unfaithful and threw a temper tantrum every time something didn’t go her way; his adoring fans were now just another annoyance, adding to a list of many, and a very loud annoyance at that; he still felt emasculated, every single male - and even some women - being more of a man than he could ever hope to be. Honestly, the list went on, but thinking about the game reminded him that he hadn’t been alone in there.

“Holly?” He called out, his voice surprisingly dry for someone whose throat couldn’t dry out. A second later, the wall monitor flickered to life, and Holly’s face was staring back at him.

“Hello Arnold, it’s nice to see you again.”

“Holly, where’s the Cat and Lister?”

“They’re still in the game.”

His head throbbed, and so he had to ask, “What?” just to be sure he had heard right.

“They’re still in the game Arnold.”

Why? The Cat he could understand, he was living his dream, but Lister, he was the one who’d come to him to tell him it wasn’t real, the one who made it clear they had to get out before it was too late. Why would Lister still be in there? He knew he was dying, that he couldn’t stay in because the game was killing him, but he _was_ still in there.

“Holly, why is he still in there?”

“Maybe he’s still getting to his exit.”

After convincing the Cat - with Kryten’s help - he and Lister had headed back down the mountain in the cable car in relative silence. The entire journey back to his penthouse in Paris had been spent with distant gazes and the occasional tired bit of ice-breaking conversation. He’d tried to convince Lister to let the jet take him back to Bedford Falls, or even just the closest major city, but Lister had refused, said he wanted to go back with Rimmer to Paris first. He wasn’t sure why Lister had insisted so, but with the conviction in his voice, Rimmer quickly dropped it and went back to staring blankly at the inflight movie.

He must still be getting back, Rimmer thought, because Bedford Falls, New York was quite a while away from Paris, and if Lister was going to find his exit, it would be there.

Rimmer started stumbling his way down the ship’s corridor, but he was quickly found by Kryten.

“Sir, you’re out, it’s so nice to see you again.”

In all honesty, Rimmer had half forgotten about Kryten. When they first met aboard the _Nova 5_ all that time ago, it had ended with the mechanoid's self-deactivation. Lister had spent over two months putting back together, and then shortly after, the two of them, accompanied by the Cat, had gone off mining. Three months they were gone, Rimmer left with his duplicate - god, he was glad that nightmare was over. The night they’d gotten back was the same night they’d found the games, Rimmer remembered, and so in total, Rimmer must’ve spent about 72 hours with Kryten since they brought him aboard.

“Ah, yes, Kryten,” he said. His head was swimming, but he had no wall he could support himself on as a hologram, and so he just stood as still as possible, squinting in the direction of the android. “Where’s Lister? Lister and the Cat, where?”

“This way sir.” And Kryten started off down the corridor. Rimmer could do nothing else but follow.

It did him no favours in terms of helping him feel better, but Kryten at least had the kindness to slow his pace so he could keep up semi-regularly. They travelled down the hallway, took the elevator sixty floors down, and then along another long corridor and into a room. In that time, Rimmer’s holo-headache had started to subside, and he had managed to walk at close to his normal pace. It was a relief, but he still felt uneasy for many different reasons.

In the room, he found Lister and the Cat. The Cat was on the floor, curled into a lazy ball, his suit horrendously crumpled and ripped at the seams, but that was mostly it. Lister was in far worse shape. He sat in a chair with a neck brace and butterfly bandages on his forehead and temple. He had a black eyes around his left, all dark black and purple, and older, brown bruises down his arm, disappearing below the cast.

“What happened?” Rimmer asked, his voice still croaky.

“He fell down a short flight of stairs the other day.” Kryten started faffing around. “I don’t think the neck brace is completely necessary, but I thought it was better to be safe than sorry, and it seems to do wonders for his posture.”

Rimmer wanted to reach out and touch, but he couldn’t. In the game he could touch, and he had touched Lister, a comfortable handshake more than once, and as they’d sat together in the mountain cable car, their shoulders had touched, so had their legs; it hadn’t felt strange, not when Rimmer had been able to touch for nearly two years.

Two years, that’s how long it had been.

“When will he get out?”

“Seven to eight hours sir,” Kryten replied as he attempted to fluff the pillow behind Lister’s back.

So that’s all Rimmer had to wait, seven to eight hours. And then a thought crossed his mind, “What about the Cat? Shouldn’t he be out?”

“I believe the Cat, though convinced it wasn’t real, still was not quite ready to let it go.”

He nodded. For some reason, though he cared about the Cat, he wasn’t as worried as he was about Lister, even though he knew he only had to wait seven to eight hours and then everything would be falling back into place. He sank to the floor as he dragged a hand down his face, his back against the wall; seven to eight hours was already starting to feel like a lifetime away.

Rimmer wasn’t sure why he was anticipating Lister’s return so much, why he was actually looking forward to it, but he was. It had been two years since he’d seen Lister, since he’d talked to him, laughed with him and at him, and that was a long time, especially considering that up until going into the game, Lister had been one of only two beings he ever interacted with, three if you were to include Holly - Kryten didn’t yet count. So going from that to two years of nothingness, had been strange.

He’d thought about Lister here and there. It had taken him so long to get used to sleeping in a room that wasn’t also occupied by Lister, the sound of his snoring though annoying, was also a constant he’d gotten used to. He hated that he thought about Lister mostly when he was in bed, when darkness was around him and he was left with just his thoughts.

It wasn’t like _that_ , at least not all the time, not most of the time. Most of the time he just thought about their time on _Red Dwarf_ together, since their fantasies hadn’t changed that aspect of their lives. He thought back to when it was just him and Lister, the Cat off elsewhere, and the good moments they’d had, thought few and far between really, but Rimmer found ways to miss it all regardless, to miss the teasing and the way their room always ended up smelling of cigarette smoke that stained his hair and clothes. And he’d learnt to miss things from before the accident, like their z-shifts together, and Lister’s excited face when he’d come back with those stupid electric goldfish and had to bang them against the desk to get them to work.

It was strange that Rimmer had been able to look back on the things that annoyed him about Lister in a different light when Lister wasn’t around.

There were occasions when it _was_ like _that_. The first time Rimmer’s mind had drifted that way, he said it was because he hadn’t had sex in a month - his wife having forbid him to touch her incase he left a mark on her highly insured body - and he was just sexually frustrated. He hadn’t done anything about it, too embarrassed, but the thoughts had been there. It had taken to the fourth time before he’d mustered enough courage to stroke one out. He’d been hot with shame for a week, not just because of that but also because it had been one of the best orgasms of his life, self administered or otherwise.

It didn’t mean anything, he told himself. He was just feeling a little lost with what to do, so he turned to something familiar, and that coupled with his frustration, had led to that, but that was all it was.

Rimmer was looking forward to seeing Lister again because then things would feel normal.

And so he waited, sat on the floor of a random break room, for Lister to emerge from the game. At one point, the Cat had awoken and went walkabout, so Kryten and quickly shuffled out, calling that if anything were to change with Lister, to get Holly to get him if necessary. Rimmer had nodded though he wasn’t fully listening, and he only registered the words long after Kryten had already left, but it hadn’t mattered since Lister had not moved.

Lister didn’t move much, just the occasional readjustment or small fidget, but that was all, and Rimmer just sat there watching him because there wasn’t much else for him to do.

Being back on the Dwarf as a hologram had a lot of disadvantages, mainly his inability to touch, smell or taste. When the solidgram had been invented in his _Better Than Life_ \- thanks to his funding - he couldn’t stop himself from touching practically everything with arms reach for about a month. He’d bought all sorts of hideous perfumes and aftershaves, and every room had a different scented air freshener. He ate a lot those first few months, a lot, but since his body was still different, he didn’t gain weight the way a normal, living person would have, and that was a joy. Eventually he found it was just because his body burnt through calories faster, which was probably why in the last sixth months he’d lost quite a bit of weight, fat and muscle alike.

He’d started falling apart. It didn’t help that his brain attacked itself in the game; it was supposed to be your every fantasy, and yet he still played second, third and fourth fiddle to so many people around him. Ultimately, despite the material, he was deeply unhappy.

Why it had taken Lister showing up to make him realise that he wasn’t sure, but he’d done enough thinking for the day, so let himself fall into semi-slumber to wait for Lister. He programmed himself to wake in six hours and thirty minutes, or if there was drastic movement from Lister, and then he drifted off.

He woke up six hours and thirty minutes later, and Lister hadn’t moved. Kryten and the Cat were back, the mechanoid becoming aware of his consciousness as he pushed himself to his feet with a groan.

“Ah, Mr Rimmer sir, you’re awake.”

He groaned again in acknowledgement as he stretched. He didn’t need to stretch anymore, no muscles to loosen or joints to crack, but that didn’t stop the feeling of stiffness from settling in him. “How’s Lister?”

“His condition remains unchanged sir. He’s still extremely malnourished and dehydrated, but I’ve done my best to feed him while you were asleep.” Rimmer nodded. He noticed a tin foil tray on the table, and by looking at it, it was curry sauce and rice; well, at least Kryten was keeping him fed on food he liked.

It was back to waiting. It reached seven hours and Rimmer anticipated the return. Fifteen minutes passed, then thirty, then an hour, then another, and Lister was still in his headset. Maybe there were plane delays, Rimmer tried to reason with himself, though he knew that wouldn’t be true unless Lister was making that happen himself, unless Lister actually wanted to stay in the game.

No, that didn’t make sense. Lister was the one to come to him, had come all the way to Paris to convince him that they had to leave because he was dying. Lister knew now that he was in _Better Than Life_ and that he was dying in the real world, so he wouldn’t stay. Lister wouldn’t do that.

When they reached the twelve hour mark however, he was worried. So was Kryten, who started faffing more than usual, shuffling aimlessly around the room. 

"Oh, what could be taking them so long?" The mechanoid whined, hands waving in panic. Rimmer was wondering the same thing though he hadn't spoken it aloud. The Cat he could understand, but Lister? Rimmer was beyond worried. He kept his mouth shut about it though. 

The debate was whether to send Kryten in again. They could, but it wasn't good for his circuits, especially so soon after coming out, and it could fry him; they'd have to wait a week if they wanted to send him back. Rimmer didn't like it, he did make that vocal - a week was a long time and they didn't know how long they could wait - but Holly had reasoned thusly: "Dave might just be late. We can't risk sending Kryten in if that's all it is."

And when Rimmer had shouted, "But what if that's not all it is?" 

Holly replied, "Well, if it's not that, we don't know if a second talking to is going to do the trick, and if it doesn't then we'd need a third, and that won't be possible if Kryten gets fried."

Holly made a solid point, which Rimmer hated, and so he sank back to the floor scowling. A week was a very, very long time. 

Two days later, the Cat woke up from the game. Rimmer wasn't around, he was still with Lister, but Kryten had come barrelling into the room with a smile, the Cat slowly trailing behind, groggy. 

"Look sir," Kryten hollered, far too loud for Rimmer's tired head. "The Cat, he's woken up. Isn't it wonderful?" It was rhetorical, Rimmer knew that, so didn't answer. It was wonderful, he supposed, but he couldn't bring himself to revel in the relief, not when Lister was still in the game. 

For five days, it was just the three of them conscious. Rimmer never left Lister's side, following him around when he got up, trailing after him, feeling helpless that there was nothing he could do. He couldn't feed him or give him anything to drink, stop him bumping into walls, couldn't stop him when he fell down a short flight of stairs. As a hologram, he was used to being at the whim of others, but he hadn't expected that it was far more painful when it was the other way around, and he could do nothing but watch when Lister tumbled down the stairs. 

Luckily, nothing had broken, thank god. That didn't ease his anxieties though. 

Kryten had hovered, and Rimmer was starting to suspect that it wasn't just for Lister, but all it took was Rimmer to snap back at him, loud and tired and beyond frustrated, for Kryten to get the message; he just came in for routine check ups and to do what Rimmer couldn't, which was everything, but he was never there longer then he needed to be. 

He knew he should apologise. 

The week eventually came, and Rimmer was the first to ask if it was safe to send Kryten in. Holly said it was, and so they patched him. Rimmer watched Kryten's slumped over body in the chair next to Lister, waiting. His leg bounced. An overwhelming fear consumed him in silence, just like it had the entire week; what if Lister didn't want to come back? 

It was a very real possibility, and Rimmer wasn't sure what he'd do with himself if that was the case. As he waited, sitting in his usual spot on the floor - Holly had materialised a chair for him, but he didn’t want it - Rimmer decided that if Lister didn’t come out, then he wanted to be turned off. Sure, it was basically saying that if Lister chose a video game over them then he’d kill himself, but what other option was there? Stay on? Just him, the Cat and Kryten? He’d go insane!

But that wasn’t really the reason, as he was sure he’d manage if he wanted to, but he didn’t. The entire reason, his entire purpose for being, was to keep the annoying git sane, and he couldn’t rightly do that when he was stuck in the headset, so really, there was no purpose being left on.

But even that wasn’t really the reason either. Really, he just couldn’t bear the thought of being without Lister. He hated even admitting it to himself, especially after basically spending two years without him, but Rimmer could not image staying on _Red Dwarf_ without Lister, he didn’t want to imagine, he didn’t want that; he wanted Lister to leave the smegging game and join them and then life could go on - they could get back to Earth properly.

Rimmer felt a headache coming on.

An hour later, Kryten came back to them, his body slowly starting to move before his faculties, though limited, returned to him. A minute later, Lister came to, hands numbly swatting at the headset before Kryten removed it for him. Rimmer had sprang from his spot the moment he saw movement from Lister, waiting, staring, hoping it wasn’t just his imagination. But it wasn’t, and with the headset gone, Lister’s eyes glazed around the room, adjusting.

“Where am I?” He croaked, and Kryten got him a drink.

“You’re in one of the officer’s break rooms sir. Please, don’t try to get up just yet, you need to give your body time to come back to itself.”

Lister hazily nodded as he sipped from the cup being held to his mouth. Rimmer stood, staring, and he couldn’t think of anything to say. His mind had gone blank. Part of him had already accepted that Lister wasn’t coming back, and so actually seeing him, conscious and alive and headset free, well, Rimmer didn’t know what to do with himself.

Kryten set the paper cup down and started faffing once more. It drove Rimmer up the wall, but it gave him something else to focus on, and not just the way Lister’s eyes stayed fixed on him. 

Part of Rimmer wanted to shout and scream, and ask how he could plead with them to leave and then stay a whole more week, in his loudest, angriest tone. And part of Rimmer just wanted to break down, fall to his knees, so relieved that Lister had come back to them when he'd practically given up the idea. What Rimmer settled on what, "So, how are you feeling?" 

"Alright I suppose, everything considered." He winced as Kryten accidentally knocked his still wrapped up arm. "I'm in pain apparently."

Kryten interjected, "Your senses will slowly be coming back to you sir." 

"Not slow enough because that really hurt." He rubbed at his tender bandaged arm, face screwed up. 

It had been surprisingly easy for Rimmer to not focus on how Lister looked when he was still in the headset because sometimes it was hard to remember that he was a person. It sounded cold when put like that, but Lister barely moved, just sat there like a shopkeeper's mannequin, all still and lifeless. But now Lister was moving, talking, trying to stand, Rimmer was reminded just what two years in a total immersion video game did to a physical body. 

He was gaunt to put it nicely. His body had hollowed everywhere, his chest and stomach, his face, his legs, just skin pulled over bone, minimal fat and muscle to support his feeble weight. His hair had grown. Clearly Kryten had tried to maintain some sort of style, keeping the sides cut shorter, working around the headset, but his hair had grown for two years; the top was a messy, squashed pile or curls, and his locks were over a foot longer. 

As Lister stood, his legs gave out and Kryten was there to catch him. Instinctively, Rimmer had reacted, reached out to support him, but his hand clipped through Lister's elbow as he fell into the mechanoid.

Kryten called for the Cat, who after nearly a week of rest and food, was looking much better than he had been. The two of them helped shuffle Lister out of the room and down to the medibays. Rimmer wanted to follow, but something stopped him, and he wasn't quite sure what it was; it was like he was standing in front of an invisible wall, watching but helpless to interact. 

Instead, Rimmer turned and walked the other way, determined to find a nice, quiet place to hide. Because that's what he did, he ran and he hid, and like the coward he was. 

He didn't wander far, not finding himself in possession of the energy or drive to trail across the decks, so he quickly just found an old bunk room and sunk to the floor. 

Lister was back, alive, so why wasn't he happy? He'd spent a week over stressed and over anxious, waiting to see if Lister would ever come back to them, and now he had, and Rimmer was still filled with the same sense of dread. What was wrong with him? His stomach was twisted in a knot and he felt sick, and his head was spinning and his eyes hurt. He wasn't sure what was wrong, but he tried to push aside his physical pain, though that only made way for the emotional. 

He wasn't sure what he was feeling. He was relieved of course, but not happy, stuck in an emotional limbo. Perhaps he could go see Lister, even just to say hi, to make sure he was alright, but Rimmer found himself rooted to the floor. It wasn't fair, that his emotions got to play him like this, just like everything else in his life.

God, maybe he should've just stayed in the game. He would've been miserable, but he felt miserable here too, and at least in there, now knowing it all wasn't real, he could've done something about it. Instead, he had been the only one to leave the game when he said he would, the only one to hold up his end of the bargain and get out before it was too late. 

Rimmer realised, as he sat there on the floor, that he felt betrayed. It was mixed among other things, but it was still there, prominent in his light only body. He couldn't identify it before because he'd never felt it like this, had never felt it cut so deeply, for it to sting and burn quite like this. And he wanted to be angry about it, to go down to medibay and scream in Lister's face, but he found no rage in him, not even mild frustration. He felt betrayed and he felt stupid for believing that when Lister said he'd leave, that he would. 

He'd been let down so many times, in life and in death, so he was a fool to suspect this would be any different. 

Eventually, his curiosity did win out, and he pulled himself slowly to his feet to go and find Lister. Rimmer did want him to be safe, regardless of how he felt, and so he let his tired feet drag him down to medical, hoping a quick hello would be enough to ease the worries that still clawed at his back. 

He stopped outside the doorway. Kryten was looking at a monitor, unaware of his presence, and Lister was laying flat on his back on a bed, wires attached at his head and wrists. And Rimmer remained there, unseen, for a while, looking in, trying to gather what information he could, what he needed to feel settled, but there wasn't much he could discern from over ten feet away. But Lister wasn't dying still, Kryten and Holly would make sure of that, so that was enough for now, so he turned to make his leave when, 

"Ah, Mr Rimmer sir," Kryten's voice called out, and he forced himself back round. "Please come in, I was just finishing up." Rimmer did as he was told, and shuffled himself into the room. Lister had pushed himself to his elbows to watch him, the same look his eyes from earlier, fixed on Rimmer alone. 

Kryten typed a few more bits of information into the computer before leaving without a word, and silence stretching long after he'd gone.

"So, how are you feeling?" It was exactly the same thing he'd asked before in exactly the same way, and he felt like an idiot.

Lister didn’t seem to mind, smiling up at him. “Better, better. Krytes gave me something for the pain and he gave me some of those disgusting nutrient tablets as well, so in all, you know, doing a bit better. How about you, how you doing?”

“Good, fine, good.” Liar. He felt terrible, tired and miserable, but he wasn’t going to say that, it wasn’t important, so he just smiled as he spoke. When he looked at Lister, he hated that he didn’t look convinced.

Lister was never a man to skirt around an issue, always cutting straight to it. “What’s wrong man?”

“Nothing, I don’t know what you mean.”

“You seem to forget that I know you, probably better than anyone else, and maybe that’s not saying much since there’s only four of us, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know when something’s eating at that brain of yours.”

Rimmer quickly regretted his decision to visit the medibay. He could’ve easily asked for an update from Holly, or waited to find Kryten or the Cat later and ask one of them, but no, he had to come see for himself, had to made sure Lister was alright; he wished he’d stayed on the floor of that bunkroom, wallowing in his misery.

He was good at that, and at pushing away sensitive questions and not answering them, he’d done it all his life for various different reasons, but he looked at Lister, and he couldn’t deny it. Rimmer had found that with Lister, that when it really came down to it, he’d give Lister whatever he wanted. Not things like cigarettes or his stupid holofilms, he could deny them to Lister for as long as he wanted, but when it was the real, serious things, answers to questions Rimmer wished he’d never been asked, vital pain relief or an ear when he really needed to get something out his system, well, Rimmer would always give in, would always give Lister what he wanted. He wished it wasn’t like that, tried to fight it so often, but it was Lister, so he couldn’t, never for very long.

With a shaky breath, Rimmer dragged a hand down his face. Lister was still waiting patiently. There was a lot that Rimmer suddenly wanted to say but also wanted to keep locked away and never heard or seen or shared. Eventually he spoke, just enough and nothing more.

“It’s been a week.”

His voice had come out horrendously rattled, which he supposed was accurate, but that didn’t mean Lister needed to know it. Lister didn’t need to know that he was a hair’s width away from breaking and crumbling to the ground like a demolition site, he didn’t need to know that Rimmer wanted to simultaneously hug the bastard and throw him out an airlock for making him feel like that, he didn’t need to know anything, but his voice betrayed him.

What he’d said, it had been enough for Lister to understand, who let his head drop, chin against his collar. And Rimmer just stared, wanting to run but wanting to know what Lister had to say in return, but he was scared, so terribly scared that he didn’t think he could run even if he wanted to.

“I know,” Lister said eventually, head still low, before he was pushing himself up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “Rimmer, maybe you want to sit down.”

All his fears suddenly felt completely justified, as his simulated heart started raising and his simulated lungs momentarily stopped working, but still, he scanned the room and found the plastic looking holochair with the big white ‘H’ on the back. He grabbed it and pulled it over and sat as requested, not knowing what was to come.

“I got back to Bedford Falls, just like I said I would when I left you in Paris, and I saw my exit, just there in the middle of the road. I thought though, how easy it’d be to stay just one more night, just one more night with Krissie and the kids and my little kebab shop in a town where it was always Christmas Eve and no one was scared it had to lock their doors - it was just so easy to stay one more night.

“And then I thought, why not just one more day? A whole day, and I could play with Jim and Bexley, and we could play football in the street with the snow falling around us and it’d be perfect. So that’s what I did you know, and it was, it was so perfect -”

“I don’t want to hear this Lister.” He tried to sound solid and firm, but it slipped just enough to let his pleading tone slide in. Whether Lister noticed it, he didn’t know, and he didn’t know which he would’ve preferred. Either way, Lister continued.

“Well, I just thought that, even though it was a game, and even though I knew that, I thought why not stay? I mean, what was waiting out here for me anyway?”

“Earth.” It was all he trusted himself to say.

“Knowing our luck, the _Nova 5_ won’t work, and I'll have spent three months mining for nothing, because that’s always our luck isn’t it, that we get so close but something always goes wrong and we’re always worse off for it.” Lister dragged a hand down his face. “This isn’t the point I’m getting at. The point is that I knew there wasn’t anything here for me, so even if I was dying, I might as well die with a loving wife and kids and a house with a leaky attic and -”

“Lister please,” and now he was practically begging, pleading, for him to stop talking, because Rimmer wasn’t sure he could handle this.

Lister continued like he hadn’t heard.

“Then suddenly, when I was walking to work, Kryten appeared. Me and him, we had a talk, sat out of this little cafe in the cold, drinking hot coffee and wearing mittens. And he told me you and the Cat had come out, and that it was just me now. And I told him all that I just told you, that I didn’t think there was any point in coming out because there was nothing for me. Honestly, Kryten looked rather offended, and he went on to talk about why I needed to get out of the game, about what I did have. At first, it didn’t matter, whatever Kryten said, I didn’t care enough about to leave, but then he said something that got to me. Do you know what it was?”

Rimmer stared blankly because he really had no idea.

“He told me about you, about how you were worried about me, and how you’d follow me whenever I got up. He told me how you hadn’t been looking after yourself because you’d been too busy stressing. Kryten said that, when I fell down the stairs the other day, you’d been with me, and when Kryten got there, you were on your knees next to me panicking because there’d been nothing you could’ve done to stop it from happening, and how you’d started pacing around the room in between sitting on the floor in a corner.”

Rimmer wanted to be sick, wanted to curl in on himself and to never have existed. God, that mechanoid, he was going to dismantle him when he next saw him; he was going to take a very large wrench and a running start and -

“And that’s when I realised,” Lister’s voice continued, bringing Rimmer back to the present, “That I did have a reason to come back, that there was something, someone, waiting for me on _Red Dwarf_ , and that it wasn’t fair that I was just sitting in a game and slowly dying while you just watched it happen. It wasn’t fair on you Rimmer, and I’m sorry I caused you so much panic, I didn’t mean it.”

His mind went blank as he stared at the floor. He felt like his projection was going to shut down, being so overwhelmed with emotion that it could no longer keep up and just give out on him. Honestly, that would’ve been easier, would’ve been what he’d preferred over this, over having listened to Lister say there was nothing here for him, only to realise that there was, and that what was here for him, was him. What was he supposed to say, how was he supposed to react to that? He felt like crawling back into a corner on the floor, it was safe done there; he was glad Lister had made him sit.

“Rimmer man, are you alright?”

And Rimmer looked up, his jaw slack because he wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came out; nothing seemed to matter anymore when he wanted, so desperately, to never have cared about Lister to begin with. How could the man say he never meant to cause him so much panic when he willingly stayed in that game, knowing full well he was dying, how could he say that?

His vision blurred, smeared streaks of foggy colour and shapes, and he knew he was close to losing it, close to betraying himself further, and he didn’t want that, please not that, not now, not in front of Lister. He took a sniffly breath in, his body simulating an intake desperately needed because he’d forgotten to breath for so long.

“Oh hey,” Lister’s voice came, all soft and warm, a voice rarely used when he spoke to Rimmer, and it just made it worse. “I’m sorry man, I really am. If I could hug you, I would yano. I didn’t mean to put you through the ringer like that.”

"You were never coming back, were you?" was all Rimmer could say, despite already knowing that answer. His brain couldn't seem to get past that part, regardless of what had been said after it. Lister was going to stay in the game. Lister was never going to leave the game. Lister was going to leave him alone. 

God, he was stupid, he was pathetic, letting himself gain any sort of feelings for the gimboid - against his will maybe but it still happened. He really thought Lister would leave _Better The Life_ , just like he said he would, just like Rimmer had, and that he was going to come back to _Red Dwarf_ and everything was going to be okay. Rimmer was a fool for thinking that Lister would give up his perfect life so easily, that he'd come back to him. 

Rimmer only realised, after a few moments of silent sulking, that Lister hadn't answered, that he was sat staring at his swinging feet. Rimmer clenched his jaw shut, but he still felt it trembling.

He stood swiftly and left. He heard Lister call out after him, but he knew he was too weak to follow, so he didn't stop. This time, he did go hunted for a hiding spot, far enough away that Lister wouldn’t stumble across him, that he wouldn't have the energy to actively find him even if he wanted to. He settled on the secondary drive room. 

It had remained eerily untouched since the accident. It was only ever to be used if the primary drive room was to go offline, which it never had, and so it remained looking identical to when it was built. It was a hideous, painful reminder that he was dead, and that everyone else was also dead, and that ultimately, nothing mattered.

Lister was right about the _Nova 5_ , about how something would inevitably go wrong and their once high hopes would be crushed. Not that Rimmer really cared about that anymore, he felt like he couldn't be crushed further than he already was, but never say never. 

He sank to the floor of the drive room, tucked away against the consoles. Everything looked different from down here, so much bigger, intimidating, horrendously out of his reach, just like everything he ever wanted. And he didn't want much, not really, not when it came down to it. He said he wanted to be an officer, but what he meant was that he wanted respect from his peers, for them to look at him and not sneer or scrunch their faces up in disgust. And he wanted to make his father proud, the self entitled, fat git. He wanted just once to make his father proud. 

More than anything, he wanted to be loved. And ultimately, he didn't even mean romantically. Sure, he wanted that, to hold someone and to be held, to kiss someone with soft and tender lips, to make love and for it to mean something more than just a means for release; he wanted that of course, but to him, love meant more. He wanted to be wanted, for someone, anyone, to look at him and smile, to be included when someone said 'let's go for a drink.' He wanted someone to actively want to spend time with him, to be a part of something more than revision timetables and exams he was doomed to fail. All Rimmer wanted was to feel like a valued human being. 

He thought maybe, rather foolishly, that that someone could be Lister. In deep space, he didn't have much of a selection, but Rimmer knew it went further back than that, further back than three million years, that even before it all, he craved Lister's approval more than anyone else. Because Lister was so many things he wasn't. Lister was cool and fun, and had friends that smiled when they saw him and would invite him for those drinks. Lister was content being the lowest rank on the ship because that wouldn't change what people thought of him or how he thought of them, because that wasn't important to him. His friends were important, and Rimmer thought, if he had any, they'd be pretty important to him too. 

He thought maybe Lister could've been that friend, but, and he accepted that his knowledge was limited, he didn't think friends would abandon you in deep space with no chance of going home.

As exhausted as he was, Rimmer didn’t stay conscious long, slipping into hologramatic sleep less than ten minutes after sitting down. He woke up some time later to the sound of his name form a familiar voice, and he pulled himself up from where he’d slipped under the console unit. He squinted as he sat, back against the wall.

“What is it Holly?”

“Dave’s looking for you.”

“Tell him to stop.”

“Should I tell him where you are then?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” Holly went silent, and Rimmer was rather content to leave it that way if it wasn’t for the computer’s accusatory stare. “What?”

“I don’t like it when you two fight.”

“Well you must hate us all the time then - and we’re not fighting.”

“Then why are you hiding?”

He didn’t answer in words, instead just letting out a tired and frustrated groan, before giving up on an upright position. He shuffled himself to lay directly under the consoles on his back, staring straight up at the undersides, all grey and plain and boring, but it was better than Holly’s stupid face. He could feel the computer’s eyes on him for a few more moments, before he disappeared, leaving him alone yet again.

People, as a general, always spoke of being alone as something peaceful, but Rimmer had never found time alone with his mind peaceful. Instead, he found it rather dangerous and toxic, and just because he knew that, didn’t mean he was able to change it - one night’s worth of motivational promises was not enough to outweigh his years of physical, mental and emotional abuse at the hands of his father, and practically everybody that had ever met him. Maybe people that were raised in a normal way, that weren’t starved when they didn’t know their astro navigation, that weren’t locked in a dark, windowless room when their wasn’t able to articulate himself to a suitably eloquent degree, that weren’t tortured by their brothers relentlessly, perhaps they found peace in alone time, but Rimmer was not one of those people.

That was why, when twenty minutes later, his alone-ness was interrupted, he was simultaneously relieved but also fearful, because he knew those footsteps well. He didn’t move when he heard them grab a chair from the console, and pull it back so he could adequately look at Rimmer who still lay under the desks.

“Anything interesting under there?” Lister asked. Rimmer didn’t answer, didn’t even look. “I’ve never laid under the consoles, never really thought about it honestly.” Despite his self preservation instincts, he’d rather not delay the inevitable talk; he’d rather get the pain over with. He turned his head, rolling his skull against the floor and looked at him and stared. It was enough. “Look, I’m sorry. Thought maybe we should talk.”

“About what?” 

“About what I said earlier, about what you said.” Lister scratched at himself, nervous, and Rimmer hated himself that he felt bad for him, just not bad enough to move, not yet at least. “Look, you were right. I wasn’t planning on coming back. I thought it’d easier to just stay in the game, but I did come out, and that’s because Kryten told me how worried you were, and I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“I do not want, nor do I need, your pity Lister.” He turned to look back at the console panelling.

“It’s not pity man,” Lister pleaded, and part of Rimmer actually believed him, but he still didn’t move. “I know it can’t look good to you, but it’s not like that, I swear. I just thought, you know, we haven’t always gotten on have we? And I just thought, well, what’s the point going back if no one cared for me here, when in that game, even if they weren’t real, I had people that loved me.” 

Rimmer wished he had listened to those self preservation instincts and put off this conversation for another three million years.

He knew Lister, and so doubted he was trying to guilt him, yet guilty he felt. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so mean to Lister, maybe then he would’ve known that he was coming back to someone who cared, maybe then he would’ve come back a week earlier like he’d promised. Maybe he should’ve cut Lister some slack, let him chain smoke in his bunk with complaining, or let him watch his Zero-G Football as much as he wanted and not throw his copy across the room. Maybe he even could’ve just said something, something simple but something that was enough.

Finally he caved, and pushed himself out from under the console, and went back to sitting against the wall. Lister’s wide, bright eyes clearly viewed it at a small victory. Lister continued speaking when it was clear he had nothing yet to say.

“I hate that it’s taken me this long to realise yano, and that’s not fair on you, I know that. I hate that it was Kryten that had to tell me because I was so blind to it. I guessed I just never thought about you like that really, but I had, and I just hadn’t registered it consciously, not properly like, but I had thought about it. I’m sorry it took me so long to realise it.”

He was tired, he knew that, but what Lister was saying made no sense. With squinted, skeptical eyes, he said, “What?”

“Rimmer, what I’m trying to say, is that, you know, I like you man.”

“What?” He said again because he couldn’t believe what he was saying. Lister so kindly elaborated further.

“Kryten came in and we talked. When nothing else worked, he told me about how worried you’d been. I told him I didn’t believe him because we weren’t like that yano, we didn’t fuss over each other, but Kryten said more, about how you’d been acting different, that you were scared. He said that, he thinks you might like me, and when he said that, I didn’t feel weird or confused or anything like that, it made sense, it was comfortable. I realised that I actually wanted it to be true, that I wanted you to like me like that, which made me realise that, yano, I like you. And it's okay if Kryten was wrong and you don’t like me, that’s cool man, but that doesn’t change how I feel, and I don’t why it took me so long to realise, I guess I just never thought I could like you like that, but I do. I just thought you should know.”

His brain was fried. Had he heard right? Did he understand? Surely not, because Lister would never say something like that. He must still be in the game. He was still in _Better Than Life_ this entire time, and his fantasies were only catching up, which meant that he’d been in there a week longer than he promised, that he was screwing everything up, that he broke his promise to Lister when he left him at the airport in Paris.

He stared at his hands as they tightened around his legs, drawing his knees into his chest. This wasn’t fair, it shouldn’t be allowed to be like this, it shouldn’t be this cruel, but when has his mind ever been kind to him.

Lister moved and crouched in front of him, close enough that he was able to draw Rimmer’s attention up to him and away from his tightening grip.

“Rimmer, I need you to talk to me, tell me what’s going on, what you’re thinking.” His mouth moved but no sound came out. Lister waited, sitting himself crossed legged in front, letting him know he wasn’t going anywhere. Simultaneously, Rimmer felt suffocated and so desperately wanting to be enveloped. “It’s okay, take your time.”

Rimmer shook his head, not sure he could get words out of his mouth if he tried, and he was, and nothing was happening. Lister must’ve seen the panic in his eyes, and gently motioned calming waves with his hands, hoping it would do something. It did very little, but not nothing, and Rimmer tried to focus on the good it was doing him.

“Do you think you could answer some yes or no questions then? Just nodding and shaking your head, no words.”

He nodded, indicating he could and was willing.

“Okay, good, okay.” It was obvious Lister hadn’t thought it through, hadn’t thought about what it was he wanted to ask, but Rimmer couldn’t fault him; this was new territory for the both of them. “Okay, well, firstly, do you believe me when I say I’m sorry?”

Rimmer found himself nodding. Slow, careful nods, but well meant because he really did believe him. He’d been around Lister enough when he’d lied to know when he was being sincere, and it really sounded like he was sorry.

Lister’s expression softened to something Rimmer found himself smiling at. “Good, I’m glad. Urm, okay, do you forgive me? You don’t have to straight away, I get that, but do you think it’s something you could forgive?”

And he nodded again, still smiling with pleading eyes.

“Do you believe me when I say that I like you?”

It suddenly got much harder. He wanted to believe, more than anything, but he was hesitant, hesitant to let himself feel a hope he’d long thought had died, but he wanted it so badly. Lister wouldn’t lie about something like this, he knew that; Lister may have been a total space bum, but he didn’t cross these kinds of lines.

And so Rimmer found himself nodding slowly, letting some hope settle in his bones. The smile that graced Lister's face knew he’d made the right call.

“I guess, for my own need, I want to ask if you like me too?”

Though he was still shaken and his voice would come out so, he wanted to speak it, to say it out loud for the first time in his life. “Yes,” he said in a voice so quiet and raw it sounded almost foreign to himself, “I do.”

Lister’s face flashed through many emotions, Rimmer picking up on the confusion and shock but also the happiness, and he was sure there were some he missed and they’d need to talk more, but for now, it was enough for them both.

Lister nodded at the acknowledgment. “So where do we go from here then?” Rimmer shrugged. “I know it’s not like we can touch or anything, but I’m sure we can figure out something you know, if that’s what you want.”

Rimmer nodded with the most confidence he’d displayed all week, or even for a very long time. He was tired, drained physically and emotionally beyond belief, but he wanted to try; if in his life and death, he was to get one thing right, he wanted it to be this, wanted it to be him and Lister in whatever weird and strange way they could get this to work. It wouldn’t be easy, nothing ever was with them, and he was sure they’d scream at each other and they’d shout and maybe they’d cry, but he wanted everything to be worth it in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you enjoyed the read ^_^


End file.
